


of frostbites and car keys

by http_gogh



Category: Zero Day (2003)
Genre: Cal losing things and Andre warming him up, Fluff, Handholding, M/M, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/http_gogh/pseuds/http_gogh
Summary: on cold days hands get lost.accidents happen.andre kriegman x calvin gabriel





	of frostbites and car keys

**Author's Note:**

> why do these boys have so little works written about them like??  
> ~based on a tumblr prompt i've lost already fuck me in the ass~

~*~

The town is covered with a fat coating of plush when Cal steps out of his house that morning. He is greeted by Andre, who volunteered to give Cal rides over winter. He secretly hopes Andre forgets about the longevity of his promise and will keep on giving him rides even after the latest of flowers bloom. The best thing is that he spends the seven minutes on his way to school in a car with a heating system without spending money on gas (although Andre does force him to pay some of his meals as a form of a payback).

"I forgot my phone last night. It's still in your room?" Andre says, walking past the blond, forgetting to stump the snow off his shoes, and thus earning a reprimand from Cal's mother.

"Oh, I dunno. I haven't seen it, actually. It was on quiet the whole time probably. Or you're just so unpopular..." Cal responds, grinning cleverly at his joke, which this time only results in a sharp glare from his friend.

"Shut up and catch," Andre states, throwing the car keys at Cal, who catches them with a small struggle. "I laid it on the floor, while I was sitting among your dirty clothes, so no wonder you haven't noticed."

"That reminds me," Cal's mother interrupts. "Please clean those clothes as soon as you get back. It's ridiculous! I can't believe you welcome Andre into such a mess!"

"Yeah, yeah, alright," exasperated Cal throws a scarf around his neck, sighing. "I'll be waiting outside then!" He does a little spin with the keys and swiftly grabs his bag from the floor, leaving.

 

Andre knows Cal's house like his own. He knows exactly which drawer Cal keeps his socks in (last but one), where he keeps T-shirts stolen from Andre (Andre had the occasion to take those back a few times, but he came to the conclusion that they look better on Cal anyway) and where he hides his porn from his pedantic mother (magazines are in the grade school encyclopedias, while the CDs are put in his seemingly innocent indie bands' boxes). Therefore, it takes him no time to locate the desired stack of laundry, and there lies his phone, just between cargo pants and an obscure T-shirt Andre would totally throw out. He grabs it and heads back out, however, a photo lying on Cal's desk catches his attention.

It's a Polaroid photo of Andre taken by Cal a few weeks ago with the new camera he had gotten on his last birthday. The photo is slightly blurred from the raspy movements of amused teenagers, the background pitch black. They were hanging around the forest at that time. Andre's face was illuminated only by the flash of the camera, he was laughing. They were both laughing. Andre still thinks it came out terrible, but when he spoke those thoughts out, he was immediately met with Cal's opposition. His friend seemed to really like it and refused to throw away the photo no matter what.

"I'm just cherishing every important memory, Andre," he said back then, "so give it back, you piece of shit!" He added, in between sudden bursts of giggles and Andre had the urge to rip that camera out of his palms and capture him like that, right there.

The photo lies among textbooks and dirtied pieces of paper, but it remained spotless, right in the center of the mess that is Cal's desk. Andre thinks whether Cal wants to do something with it and leaves the room.

 

"Have a nice day, Andre," Cal's mother speaks out, as he exits through the main door.

Outside, Cal is squatting, rubbing his hands in the snow. The sunlight reflects in the snow, partially blinding Andre, but he can still recognize the colors in Calvin's irises.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Andre asks politely. Cal stops in his tracks and looks up at his friend. He has such nice eyes.

"If I tell you, I'm gonna get hit," he answers.

"You're gonna get hit anyway. Speak up."

"I dropped the car keys there somewhere..." There is a moment of silence with only the birds' chirping audible.

"Oh my god, Cal..."

"I'm sorry," Cal says, pleadingly, secretly hiding his amusement.

"Didn't the keys leave a hole in the snow?"

"So you would think, but I was actually spinning them on my fingers and so they unexpectedly fell behind my back. So it's kind of hard even locating it."

"How are you a real person?" Andre asks as he walks down the pavement to where Cal is squatting. "I'll check the area over there."

Cal laughs quietly, abashed and guilty, and goes back to checking the white lawn.

Ten minutes later, Cal's mother stumbles out of the house, shivering slightly. "What are you still doing here, boys? You'll be late!"

Cal smiles nervously. Andre stares at him, judgemental and disappointed. "I lost the car keys in the snow, mom!"

Mother doesn't seem too surprised when she hears it. She just sighs, scans the yard and points to a small opening in the snow. "There's something over there," she states, to which both the boys shoot up suddenly and race to the keys. Cal wins. He was closer.

"Thanks, you're the best!" he shouts to his mother, waving the keys in his hand, careful not to lose them again.

 

When the engine is finally running, sheepish Cal glares at his red hands. "I feel like my fingers will fall off any second now," he speaks out and looks up at Andre's warm leather gloves with envy and regret.

Andre takes the gloves off using only his teeth, trying to keep on driving steadily. "Give me," he says and, for a second, Cal doesn't know what he means by that, but when Andre throws a glance at Cal's hand, he finally put his fingers in Andre's. Andre flinches.

"Ow! Shit, man! They're like the ice age all over again!" Cal laughs at that. Andre still doesn't take his hand away, so Cal grabs it with both of his palms and holds tightly. They're extremely warm for such a low temperature.

"I have good circulation. After my mom," Andre says. Cal nods. It's kind of awkward. They forgot to turn the music on and it's too late to do it now. If Cal were to do it, he'd have to let go of Andre's hand and grabbing it once again later would seem weird. However, Andre can't do it due to one of his hands being on the steering wheel and ripping the other from Cal's grip would seem weird.

"Huh," Cal thinks. "I'm fucked."

"Fuck," Andre thinks. "My life is a mistake."

When they finally arrive at the school parking lot, they're fifteen minutes late and red, not from the cold, but the embarrassment. Just when Andre turns off the engine, hands of both simultaneously retreat to their original places and they don't even glance at each other as they exit the car.

"Hey," Cal clears his throat. "Can I borrow one of your gloves?"

"What? Oh, yeah... Uh, yeah," Andre responds with a delay and hands him one of the leather items, slipping on the other one.

"Now at least half of my fingers will stay intact." Cal puts on the glove on his right hand. Andre throws his school bag over his left shoulder. As they walk to the school, their bare hands dangle between them and they both think of the way they could warm them up.

Somewhere in between nervous glances when the other one isn't looking, sped up heartbeats and nagging frostbites, their hands manage to intertwine once again, and this time, much to the boys' satisfaction, it's not awkward at all.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, all comments are appreciated!!  
> especially the ones correcting my english, since it's my second language  
> have a great night, guys xx


End file.
